


Kiss the Cook

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean Winchester/Top Sam Winchester, Dean in Panties, Domestic smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2017-05-13
Packaged: 2018-10-31 05:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10892562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Sam buys Dean an apron as a joke. It turns into something more.





	Kiss the Cook

**Author's Note:**

> Parts of this are a little cracky...crackish? Well either way you've been warned. I just didn't think it was enough for a tag.

“It’s your turn to clean the bathroom,” Sam insists, sitting down across from Dean in the library.  
“What?” Dean asks, mild irritation plain in his voice. “I clean the kitchen. You clean the bathroom.”  
“You only clean the kitchen because you won’t let me step foot in it,” Sam counters. “Not even to make coffee.”  
“That’s because you burn things, Sam.” Dean leans forward across the table. “You know you do. Remember the pie you tried to make me? I appreciate the thought but you ruined my best pan.” Dean pats Sam’s hand a little to take the sting out of his words.   
Sam flinches. He remembers. Dean had been really angry, which made Sam angry because he’d only be trying to do something nice. It’s not his fault the instructions didn’t say not to use a non-stick pan. Dean had banned him from the kitchen after that.   
“That was forever ago,” Sam snaps, tugging his hand away.   
Dean grabs his hand again and holds tight so Sam can’t pull away. “Sammy, I’ve been cooking for you our whole lives. Let’s just keep it that way.” Dean stands up to plant a soft kiss on Sam’s lips.   
“Yeah, alright,” Sam agrees, then pauses. “Wait, does this mean I have to clean the bathroom?”  
Dean grins and nods. “Oh yeah. Off you go.” He makes a shooing gesture as Sam stands. “Don’t forget the rubber gloves.”  
***  
A few days later Sam come home to the bunker with a bag in his hand and a smirk on his face.   
“I got you something.” He tosses the bag at Dean.  
Dean’s face lights up. “Really?” He dives into the bag only to pull out some ruffled white fabric. He frowns. When he holds it up it’s obvious it’s a frilly white apron. The words “Kiss the cook” are printed in black letters across the front over bright red lips. Dean raises an eyebrow, looking at Sam confused.   
“You said you wanted to do all the cooking. So here. You can be the perfect little housewife.” Dean rolls his eyes but Sam continues. “I even got you a Betty Crocker cookbook.” Sam holds the book out, smug grin dimpling his cheeks.  
Dean throws the apron over his shoulder and grabs the book. “You know what? I’m gonna cook every recipe in here and not give you a bite. I’ll even wear the damn apron.” Dean stalks off to the kitchen.   
“Hey, you can’t ban me from the kitchen and not feed me!” Sam calls after him.  
“Watch me!” Dean fires back.  
Sam huffs a laugh at Dean’s stubbornness. “I’ll just go in the kitchen when you’re not around.”  
Dean sticks his head back into the library and points at him with the apron. “Oh, I’ll know. And I’ll be the little house wife you wanna think I am and deny you sex for a week.”  
“You couldn’t hold out that long,” Sam says confidently.  
“Test me and find out,” is all Dean says.   
***  
Dean doesn’t actually withhold food from Sam, but he does make recipes from the book and even wears the apron over his jeans and plaid. And Sam is still banned from the kitchen.   
Dean is setting plates on the table in the library when Sam comes up behind him. He wraps his arms around Dean’s waist, kissing his neck. “You really are the perfect little home maker,” he whispers against Dean’s ear.   
Dean makes a low breathy noise in the back of his throat and pushes his ass back into Sam automatically.   
“And that apron really suits you,” Sam’s says half playful, half serious.  
Dean pushes Sam back with his shoulder irritated.   
“What?” Sam asks, offended.   
Dean spins. “Dude, I’m not a girl, alright?” he snarls. “This I Love Lucy crap is getting old.”   
“Okay, if it bugs you I’ll stop,” Sam concedes. “But it really does look good on you. Would you ever wear only that?” Just the mental image is enough to make Sam’s jeans feel too tight.  
Dean snorts. “Wanna paint me like one of your french girls, Sammy?”  
Sam rolls his eyes. “No Dean.” He steps forward pulling Dean against him. He see’s Dean’s eyes widen in surprise when he feels Sam’s half hard cock. “I wanna bend you over and fuck you.”  
Dinner is cold by the time they get back to it that night.  
***  
It’s another few days later when Sam comes home from a supply run and Dean is nowhere in sight. He can hear water in the kitchen and thinks Dean must be doing dishes. The sight that greets him when he stops in the doorway has to be one of the best he’s ever seen. Dean is at the sink wearing the apron Sam bought, rubber gloves and a pair of pink panties, complete with bows, ruffles and lace.  
“Holy shit, Dean,” Sam says softly.   
Dean turns the water off and sets the gloves beside the sink. He looks down and takes a few tentative steps forward. “I know it’s not exactly what you said but…”  
Sam closes the distance between them and tilts Dean’s face up for a kiss before he can say another word. “Beautiful,” Sam breathes against Dean’s lips.  
Dean is blushing. “So, you like it?” Dean asks hesitantly.  
Sam runs his hand through Dean’s hair. “I love it. I love you.” He kisses Dean again because he can’t resist.   
“Let me look at you,” Sam says when he finally pulls away. He guides Dean back gently and Dean’s cheeks redden further.   
Sam’s eyes roam over Dean’s body devouring. Dean is always hot but something about the hard lines of muscle contrasted with the frills and lace do things to Sam.   
“Turn around,” Sam mutters hoarsely.   
Dean does. The panties are more than Sam could have dreamed. The way the silk hugs the skin. The lower curves of Dean’s ass peeking out the bottom. Sam is hard already.  
Dean steps over the the table and bends over, sticking his ass out. Sam can see the fabric pull with the weight of Dean’s cock. Sam moans aloud and bites his lip. “Fuck, Dean. Do you have an idea how hot you are?”  
Dean shifts his weight from foot to foot, shaking his ass. “Yeah yeah, just get over here and fuck me already.”  
Sam has other ideas. He sinks to his knees behind Dean and presses his face into the satin. Dean lets out an undignified squeak of surprise that turns to a moan as Sam pulls his cheeks apart with his thumbs and tongues at Dean’s hole through the fabric. Sam can feel the puckered skin beneath the fabric relaxing as he works his mouth against it.  
He pauses to rub his fingers over the spot wet with spit. Dean groans and pushes back into it.   
“Fuck, Dean.” Sam presses his tongue in again. “You are so,” he licks hard again, “fucking,” another lick, “gorgeous.”   
Sam stops to examine his handy work. He smooths his hands over the material, caressing, before he tucks his fingers into the top and pulls them down enough to expose Dean’s ass. He bites and nibbles gently at the soft sensitive flesh. He can hear Dean panting.   
He puts tongue against skin now, able to probe his way inside. With just spit, Sam’s able to work two fingers into Dean’s hole. He glances around, hoping to spot a bottle of lube and his eyes fall on a bottle of olive oil instead. He grabs it and uses the fluid to slick the way for three fingers.   
Dean groans. “God, Sam, just fuck me already.”  
Sam wants to his cock is aching, still trapped in his jeans. He presses against it just to relieve some tension, sending a shiver over his body.   
“Wait, turn around,” Sam commands, still kneeling. “I want to see it all.”  
Dean does. Sam can see beneath the apron, the hard line of Dean’s cock held slightly away from his body by the underwear. Sam nods his head, telling Dean to lift the apron. He does, looking away embarrassed. There is a sticky spot on the underside of Dean’s belly just at the line of the panties, with a few spots leading up to it. Sam leans forward and laps it up, swirling his tongue against the skin. The muscles of Dean’s stomach tighten in response.   
Sam pulls the panties away with one finger and sucks the head of Dean’s cock into his mouth. Dean moans, bucking his hips, pushing deeper into Sam's mouth.   
Sam swirls his tongue, seeking more of Dean’s salty-sweetness. He sucks hard, watching Dean’s face, eyes dark with lust, as he pulls off with a wet pop. Sam only pauses a moment before he sucks Dean down again, as far as he can this time.   
Dean moans and his hand flies to the back of Sam’s head. “Fuck, you keep this up I'm not gonna last long.”  
Sam bobs his head a few times before pulling off again. He tugs the panties back into place and smooths them over Dean’s cock. “God, so beautiful,” Sam whispers as he stands up.  
Dean groans and turns around. Sam leans forward, undoing his jeans. He nibbles at the shell of his brother’s ear and sucks the flushed skin at his neck. “Gonna fuck you so hard you come all over those pretty panties,” Sam murmurs.   
Dean’s breathing is harsh. “Fucking do it already,” he rasps.  
Sam slicks himself up with more oil. He lines himself up with Dean’s hole, all stretched and waiting for him. He presses in slowly, watching his cock disappear inch by inch, into the slick, tight, heat.   
Once he’s hips are flush to Dean’s, there's a moment of sweet perfection, bliss. This is where Sam belongs. Even their craziest, wildest sex has this moment. Even when they’re angry or tired or stressed. When their bodies join for that first time again after being apart, it’s like coming home.  
Sam rests his forehead against Dean’s back, savoring the moment before he starts to move. He starts slow, easing into it, feeling Dean grip him tight on every draw out. Sam can feel the steady build already. He pumps his hips harder and faster, making Dean moan.  
Sam reaches around to stroke Dean’s cock through the satin. “Wanna feel you get all wet for me, Dean. Wanna feel you make a mess all over yourself for me.”   
“Sam,” Dean says with a low whine. “Fuck, I’m so close.”  
“Yeah?” Sam angles for Dean’s prostate, fucking into him harder.  
It’s not the best position for it but Dean moans louder. “Come on, Dean come for me. Come all over those pretty panties.”   
Dean does, as Sam is still rubbing his cock. Dean grips Sam impossibly tight. Sam nearly comes too. He stops himself through sheer will so he can focus on the warm wetness spreading across the fabric still covering Dean’s cock. It slicks the way as Sam milks every last drop he can.  
Once he’s satisfied, Sam chases his own release, the dull snaps from his hips the perfect counterpoint to Dean’s moans. It’s not long before Sam feels tension in his belly snap. His whole body tenses and his vision whites out as the electric release flies out to every muscle.   
He pants as his heart rate returns to normal.  
“I uh- didn’t realize panties were a thing for you,” Dean mutters with a short laugh.   
Sam blinks, returning to himself. He pulls out, wincing a little at the separation. He pulls the panties back into place, still wet from earlier. “Uh huh,” he says happily. “Turn around.”  
Dean does, rolling his eyes. Sam sinks to his knees. The soft pink material is dark where it’s wet, all long Dean’s softening cock. Sam licks at it, feeling the silky material slippery with Dean’s come.   
Dean groans pulling away. “Dude, we are too old to go round two right now.”  
Sam pouts but stands up. He leans in to kiss Dean, their lips brushing softly. Sam’s jeans are still undone and the wet fabric rubs against his cock, which twitches feebly in interest.  
“Huh,” Dean grins, pulling back enough to look at Sam. “I thought you were just messing with me with the apron thing. I’ll have to get a few more of these. Any favorite colors?” Dean raises an eyebrow.  
Sam bites his lip. He can’t tell if Dean is fucking with him or serious. “Red?”  
Dean shrugs. “Anything for you, Sammy.”


End file.
